


Main Attraction

by Catastra_Fey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Both characters still in High School but over 18, Confessions, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22059319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastra_Fey/pseuds/Catastra_Fey
Summary: Oikawa goes through girls like flares in a box of matches and Hajime suffers in silence, always. But when when his friend challenges his loyalty, he's ready to break that silence. What better way to do it than by playing a song that he's attached to his crush for as long as he can remember. He just hopes beyond hope that the gamble will be worth it.**Updated 5/14/2020! Please note, the rating has been increased to Explicit**
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 36
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beauxxxtiful_lies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/gifts).



> So, I wrote this for my dear friend [Beauxxxtiful_lies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies)! She has been such a huge force of joy and awesomeness in my life that there aren't even words to describe it. Thank you for everything that you are! Happy late birthday (in part, anyway). I know this is only half of your boys, but hey, they had to get together somehow, right? Love you, buddy <3333
> 
> This fic was inspired by the song [Main Attraction – Jeremy Renner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wdn_JBLxx4A). I take no credit for the song or lyrics, they belong entirely to the band.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the full original story with no explicit content! Enjoy!

Hajime's homework swam on the page before him. He grimaced, slapping a palm against his forehead, trying to refocus. A glance over to his phone revealed that he'd received no messages, the little notifier dark and unblinking. He still opened the screen anyway, as if it might reveal a secret message that had not activated the buzz or light of cell phone. When the screen came up with nothing but the picture Oikawa had taken of the two of them and programmed into his phone, he sighed heavily and leaned back in his desk chair. 

His best friend was out on another date, with another dumb girl who screamed at the mere sight of him and wrote his name in all of her notebooks. They were a dime a dozen. They were all lovely, frail young things, with flushing cheeks and lovely curves. Delicate hands with painted nails would pass him notes, chocolates, bentos, anything he could want. They surrounded him like flies. They could recite his height, his weight, his eye color, his volleyball scores and stats, and the bucket list items he posted on instagram. They thought they knew everything about him, down to where he got his manicures and the brand of styling gel he used in his hair.

They didn't know how he fought sleep to make it through another late night airing of Ancient Aliens. They didn't know that he could eat an entire lasagna on a dare and be totally miserable but still brag like a complete asshole. They didn't know that he collected old pokemon cards and refused to acknowledge any beyond the original 151. They didn't know what he looked like, streaked with tears and snot after his dad railed on him for whatever stupid thing had set him off. They didn't know anything about him. Not anything that mattered.

Hajime did, though. He knew all those things. He'd been there every day for them, seen all the best and worst of Oikawa Tooru and he still...

He still shuffled those girls like a deck of cards. He'd date one for a couple weeks and then move on. He wore them, like a badge of accomplishment, to show the world just how very worthy and important he was. Then, when he tired of their vapid fawning and uncomfortable expectations, he cut them lose. Or, occasionally, they realized what a dick he was and bowed out. Either way, it was always the same. Not one of them lasted, not as girlfriends and not as friends. 

Hajime leaned forward, resting his forehead against the desk and thunking it against the heavy wood a few times for good measure. It's because he could never relax around them, always had to play the part he had built around himself. It was because none of them knew what he needed in the moments where he was weak and when he faltered. Hell, none of them could even recognize those moments. Not like Hajime could. 

Whatever. It wasn't like had ever given Oikawa any indication that his feelings ran a lot deeper than friendship. How could he? How could he take away the only friend that Tooru relied on, who kept him tethered to the ground. Hajime hated how sometimes his overwhelming feelings were covered and funneled into cutting retorts and too hard punches and kicks. But when he couldn't say the soft things he wanted to, couldn't touch him with reverent caresses, they instead came down with all the weight of his frustration. He hated that, but it was how it was. And thankfully, his best friend never seemed to take it personally, always laughing it off and accusing Hajime of cruelty in a lilting sarcastic voice. 

Hajime looked back down at his calculus homework. The numbers blurred together in his vision as he tried not to imagine Tooru, pressed against the newest Barbie doll in the backseat of his car, his lips on hers and his hands-

His pencil snapped in his grip and he finally just put his homework aside. Only one more semester, and then they would graduate and probably go their separate ways and he would see him again in a few years and then he would have a wife and a family and it would make Hajime want to puke. It was already churning in his stomach. 

His door burst open, which startled him out of his depressive spiral, and he turned to yell at whoever had barged into his room. But his mouth slammed back closed as the devil himself flung his body through the door and shut it as quietly as he could behind him, leaning heavily against the dark wood.

“Oh, thank god you're here. I just couldn't go straight home after that. I'm bothering you for awhile. You're not busy right?” Oikawa ran a hand back through his carefully styled hair. He was still wearing his nice clothes, a maroon button down and fitted jeans which made him look incredibly dashing. Hajime scowled at him.

“It's not like you would leave even if I told you to.” The vein on the side of Oikawa's forehead was sticking out, the subtle tell to when he was upset and trying to hide it. Hajime turned toward him fully. “You're supposed to be out on a date. What happened? She bail on you?” 

“Mean.” Tooru walked across the room and flopped down on his bed in a ridiculous pose, arms and legs splayed and his face crushed into the pillows. Hajime got up and sat down next to his prone form, tapping at his shoulder. He groaned.

“Okay Shittykawa, tell me. What happened. Does my mom know you're here?”

“That splendid woman let me in without question. How did someone so divine birth such a cruel villain as you?” 

Hajime chuckled at him, shoving his shoulder and rolling him over. 

“Eh, Shmi Skywalker birthed Darth Vader, so there's good precedent. Tell me what's wrong.”

“Nerd.”

“I'm going to flick you in the eye.”

“Always resorting to violence so early. No surprise.” 

“Stop dodging.” 

Oikawa sighed and sat up, standing and pacing the small bedroom, eventually sitting heavily on Hajime's desk chair backward, leaning his arms on the top of the backrest. 

“We went down to the beach for a sunset walk. I picked her up, let her fawn for the ride over, and took her hand as she got out of the car. And then she started talking about some reality TV show I've never seen or would see, and Hajime, I tell you, I couldn't even remember her name. It was so much like every other stupid date I've been on. Her face looked like every other girl and her words just blurred together in my brain and honestly, the thought of kissing her made me want to swim into the ocean just to get away. They all taste like make-up and smell like some godawful fake fruit spray. They're all exactly the same. Why can't any of them be, like, real? Like a real person?” 

He looked up with those deep brown eyes, pleading for some kind of meaning and Hajime's heart clenched tightly in his chest. Was he really finally realizing it? Would this moment of self-reflection even stick, or would it just spin back to the background like so many of their deep conversations seemed to. Hajime chewed at his thumbnail. 

“Yeah, this is exactly how it always goes. Why do you keep dating these bimbos? If you really don't like them, then why?”

“I don't know! Because they ask me and it seems like something Oikawa Tooru should do. Date all the girls and be charming about everything! But I...I fucking broke character. I was terrible to her, Iwa-chan. I told her I needed to take her home and when she asked why I told her that it was because she was boring and stupid and a waste of my time. I said that. I said that to someone who liked me. What is wrong with me? She sobbed the entire ride home...” He placed a hand over his eyes, his voice grown thin. While Tooru was a master of conversational brutality, he really didn't want to hurt people, not like this, in a way that was uncontrolled. He could be like a rubber band pulled so tight that it snapped. It always tore him up like this later. 

Hajime stood and crossed to him, placing a hand on his head and skritching lightly at his soft, styled hair. His shoulders rose and fell sharply and Hajime could see his brow dawn fiercely between his fingers.

“It's okay, Tooru. She'll be fine. Why do you do this to yourself? You try to play this prince part so hard it eventually breaks you. This girl's not the first you've left in tatters because you got frustrated with yourself.” As always, he squashed every screaming instinct to run his hands along Oikawa's neck and shoulders, to lift his jaw and cup his chin. He let his hand fall away lifelessly. “You don't have to do this. You can just be the real you.” Oikawa laughed, bitterly.

“Iwa-chan, we both know you're the only friend I can be that way with. I created this monster and now I have to moderate it. But it feels like I fail more and more recently. There's a big part of me that honestly wishes they just saw it. That they could all just realize that the Oikawa they love is an image, a fucking mask I put on every morning and suffocate inside until I get home. Maybe if they saw what a miserable bastard I am, they'd steer clear. After all, my only friend who really knows me is mean to me all the time.” He looked up through misty eyes and Hajime's whole being trembled at his naked vulnerability.

“Tooru, you're not a miserable bastard. You know I don't mean any of that rude shit I say to you.” 

“Do I?” Iwaizumi's eyebrows shot up at his reply, an accusation biting through. The look Tooru was giving him said one thing, shot straight into him like a bullet: prove it. 

Hajime's first reaction was defensive. How could he think that? How could he question his loyalty when he'd spent almost every day with him, done stupid and selfless things for him, picked up his broken pieces every time. How could he believe that, when Hajime had dutifully loved him in silence for so long, locking away this aching, thrashing beast inside of him to protect Tooru from that awful and beautiful truth? When he wanted to shout it, shout it every day into Oikawa's perfect fucking face. 

He turned away, feeling the muscles knot in his shoulders, his hands closing into fists. 

“Do you even actually like being around me, Hajime? Or am I your charity case? Is anyone even real to me? Just tell me, now. This is your ticket out of this mess if you want it.”

“Shut up, Tooru!” He was screaming internally, trying to form words over the roaring sound of his own heart. Two steps took him to his computer, which flickered on at a touch to the mouse. He clicked his music player open, noting that he only needed to replay the current song. He'd listened to it a hundred times, maybe a thousand. 

He'd imagined this moment so many times, so many ways, so many endings. He hovered over the replay button, heat flooding him as his heart beat almost painfully against his throat. If he did this, there was no going back. It would not be sleek or subtle. Not only was he terrible at such things, but that was not the way in which to handle Oikawa Tooru. He required a firm hand, one that delivered punishing blows but also rending kindness. It was a double-edged sword that Hajime wielded with mastery, in part because of Oikawa and how they had grown together as friends. Fear ran through him like razor-wire, and his fingers lifted from the mouse.

“What are you doing? I need you to say more than 'shut up, Tooru.' I'm serious, if you just want me to get the fuck out, say it now. If you tell me never to bother you again, I promise I'll do it. I'm tired of being the person you take pity on.” 

“Tch, I can't believe how stupid you are,” he said through clenched teeth, almost more to himself than to Oikawa. He swallowed hard just as his finger hit the button and the heavy bass began to pour from his speakers. He turned back to Oikawa, who just looked at him, tentative and confused. 

“This is your song, you fucking idiot.” Hajime turned away as the lyrics began, fear coiling tightly inside him.

_Every time I take a ride, I feel alive with nowhere to go. I'm the king of the road. You're the queen of my throne._

His heart was throwing itself against his ribcage and he peeked over his shoulder to see Oikawa staring at him, a slight flush creeping across his face. His body started to move, refused to stand still in the confined space with so much turmoil spinning within him. His feet took him to stand right before his best friend, who looked up at him with an unreadable expression. He felt skinless, raw to his very bones as the song laid him open to the man who had laid claim to his heart.

_Riding high, day and night, satisfied wherever we roam. You're the star of the show. You shimmer like gold. Now baby, let's ride...”_

He reached out, his fingertips meeting Tooru's upturned jawline and sliding down to his neck. His lips parted beautifully on the contact and his blush flared brighter in the glaring fluorescent light of the room.

_We got nothing but time. You get all the reaction. You're the main attraction._

Hajime let his touch glide down Oikawa's skin, just like he had always longed to, until it danced along his collarbone at the button of his shirt. 

_It's no surprise. God, I like your style. You're the perfect distraction. You're the main attraction._

A dam broke within Hajime and he gripped Oikawa's shirt and lifted him, yanking the chair from under him and pushed him the few steps to the wall. He shoved him against it roughly, knocking the air from his lungs as he gaped at Iwaizumi, his hands flying to splay against the wall at his sides. 

_Roaming through the city like like the track of time, the freedom is mine. Riding the lines. You know how I like it, yeah._

Hajime pushed Oikawa's hips into the wall, then placed a forearm against it over his shoulder. His friend was taller than he was, but it made the situation no less charged. He slid his other hand around Tooru's jaw, tilting his face to the side so he could lean close against his ear. The scent of his cologne had Hajime firing on all cylinders, his blood boiling with the fact that Tooru hadn't yet pushed him away.

_Pedal to the metal, I'm your soldier, we can take it for miles. And let it all wild. Just how I like it. Now baby, let's ride..._

“You know why you don't like those girls, Tooru.” A thin whine left the throat he held beneath his hand and he could feel Oikawa's racing heart, making him bolder. A sort of heady exhilaration was burning up through him and he let his hand trail down Tooru's luscious, pale throat, over the thin fabric of his button down, the line of his muscles delicious beneath his touch. He lifted his knee between Oikawa's legs, making him gasp as their hips nearly locked together.

“It's because they are so soft, just like you, you whimpering little prince. And what you need,” he found the waist of Tooru's jeans, threaded his thumb in the belt loop, his lips brushing against his ear, “is something hard.” 

He jerked the belt loop, crashing their interlocked bodies together. He hadn't meant for the comment to sound so cheesy and pornographic, was silently admonishing himself for that, but the pressure that found his thigh at their junction told him that it was having the desired affect on his object of affection. Oikawa's hands flew up to grab his shirt, his eyes now lidded in his blushing face as he turned to look at him fully.

“H-Hajime...” Oikawa whispered, their noses brushing together and Iwaizumi was drawn to him like the pull of gravity. Pressing him back fully to the wall, he took his mouth hungrily, every static burst from the sensation igniting the dream-fuel that surged in his veins. Oikawa's mouth fell open and Hajime pressed his tongue into him, rolling his hips along his thigh as the idea of penetrating any part of the magnificent man before made him nearly shake with want. 

The heavy beat of the song still filled the room, but he lost the words to it as long fingers threaded up through his hair and under his shirt at his back. Tooru was kissing him back, so needy and wanton that he thought he might die. His hands rushed up under the button up shirt, running along smooth skin and lean muscle and as he pulled back, Oikawa panted. Hajime's lips found his throat, his teeth grazing roughly over the sensitive skin and Tooru arched into him, making him moan against his throat. 

“Fuck, Hajime, if I'd known you...”

“You're the prettiest fucking thing I've ever seen and I want to take you apart piece by piece.” 

“God, yes, please!” 

All his fantasies were blooming into reality and he grabbed Oikawa around the waist, shuffling their tangle of limbs over to the bed. He pushed him down on it, following with greedy fingers and mouth. Just as his fingertips breached Tooru's waistband, sliding against his silky boxers, there was a knock on his door. They both froze in horror.

“Boys! Dinner is ready! Quit your roughhousing for ten minutes and come eat before it gets cold!” They waited, perched on the edge of terror, but then her footsteps receded down the hallway. They both breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Tooru's hands on his face drew him back and he looked into those liquid eyes that had long ago captured his soul, finally seeing him and all of his mystery clearly. 

“I think we're both idiots, Hajime. You can't pin this on just me.” Tooru smiled a sure and playful smirk, his eyes glued to Iwaizumi's mouth. 

“For once you might be right about something.” He leaned forward again, kissing Oikawa slow, his hand finding his nape. They needed to untangle or they risked never getting out of this room. 

“You think your mom's going to notice we both have raging hard-ons?” Oikawa laughed against his lips and he couldn't help but smile.

“I've got baggy sweatshirts. We'll be fine.” 

“Ten minutes, then?”

“Let's make it eight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an explicit follow up chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

Hajime slid into the seat at his family dinner table, their bowls of rice and soup already in place. His dad was working late that night, so it was just his mom, and she smiled at them as she set her own place at the table. He tried not to look at Oikawa, tried to just think only about getting through the food before him and returning to the privacy of his bedroom. The baggy sweater he had donned hid the worst of his intentions which was quickly fading now that he sat across from his mom. Oikawa was equally hidden by another, but seeing his friend wrapped in clothes that belonged to Iwaizumi was carrying some additional weight he was trying to push to the backburner. He started shoveling rice into his mouth at a frantic pace.

“Hajime! Are you a human or a vacuum cleaner? Stop wolfing down your dinner, I'm sure whatever you were doing can wait for you to eat normally.” Her gaze switched over to Tooru, which was good because heat burst across Hajime's face. “Tooru, you look like you're doing better. Poor thing, is everything all right?”

“Ah, yes, Iwaizumi-sama, everything is fine. Just, you know, girl problems.” Hajime peeked over at him, but Oikawa was also pointedly ignoring him.

“Oh, sweetie, don't you worry about that. Things all work out in the end.” She sighed and her eyes flicked to Hajime. “Thank goodness Hajime seems clear of that for now. Although I can't imagine why, he's handsome enough-”

“Mom!” Hajime barked at her, his face heating in earnest, and to his horror he heard Oikawa chuckle. He turned to look right into his beautiful, sly face.

“Such a mystery, Iwaizumi-sama,” Tooru said with a teasing undertone, gaze flickering to Hajime's mouth. That son of a bitch. He'd made a flawless recovery and it was all Hajime could do to turn away from his smirk and continue scarfing up his food.

“Tooru, do you need me to call your mother and let her know you're here?”

“Actually, Iwaizumi-sama, it's been an exhausting evening. Could I just stay over?” Tooru's voice was completely casual, but Hajime sucked in a mouthful of soup and sputtered, coughing horribly and grabbing his water as he lunged for the kitchen.

“Hajime! Are you okay? That's what happens when you eat so fast! Sure Tooru, I'll just give your mom a call after supper. I think the futon is still in Hajime's room. Just don't stay up too late...”

He bent over the sink, gulping down some of the water and refilling the glass. What the hell was Oikawa doing? He seriously just managed to one-up him and now they would be in the same room, alone, in the dark, all night...

He gripped the edge of the counter, feeling his knees wobble a bit. Was this seriously happening? He hadn't planned or accounted for any of this! Was woefully unprepared for this level of access to Oikawa. He felt sweaty and shaky. His own lack of experience had never felt so crushingly inconvenient before, especially since Oikawa had at least fooled around with tons of girls.

He took another big drink before rejoining the other two, trying to stay as cool as possible. He didn't look at Tooru. He couldn't or he might simply collapse into a pool of jelly. His mom looked him over with a confused expression before gathering the dishes and turning into the kitchen.

“Real chill, Iwa-chan,” Tooru taunted him lightly and Hajime kicked him under the table hard enough to make him flinch. “Ow!”

“Are you crazy?” he whispered, but the way Tooru just passed him a devious smirk and his eyes traced the landscape of Hajime's face, made him turn away in embarrassment.

“Fortune favors the bold, Iwa-chan,” he said quietly, jumping up quickly and peeking into the kitchen. “Iwaizumi-sama, we're heading back upstairs. Thank you so much for dinner, it was wonderful as always!”

“Yes, yes, don't crash around too much up there!” She ruffled Tooru's hair and he turned to stroll ever so infuriatingly casually back up to the stairs. Hajime's heart was hammering, and he woodenly moved away from the table to follow him, watching the lines of his long legs go up the stairs in front of him. He wanted to touch him so badly, but fear was pounding just as hard in his veins as exhilaration.

As they entered his room and the door shut behind him, he swore the temperature raised by ten degrees. His hands felt numb as Oikawa turned to him with a smoldering look and the electricity between them could have lit up a city block. But something was off, the way Oikawa was standing, the way he arranged his face, and it was setting Hajime on edge. His friend swaggered over to the computer, bending quite purposefully in a way that accentuated his perfect ass, and clicked the playlist back on, before turning and leaning back against it. He looked at his nails.

“Stop it,” Hajime bit out. His burning eyes flashed up to Hajime at those words and his brow crinkled.

“Oh please don't tell me that was all just a momentary lapse of sanity...” He was using that voice. Hajime glowered and took a few fast strides to stand just before him, wrapping his fist in the fabric of the borrowed sweater. Tooru's eyes went wide and a little gasp escaped him.

“No. You constantly make me crazy. You just put that mask on and I hate it. You're not the grand king here, Tooru. I don't want to see it.” Oikawa grimaced, his eyes sparking with pride.

“I'm sorry,” he said, voice dripping with dark sarcasm, “I thought you were going to 'take me apart piece by piece.' I'm just trying to-”

“Trying to what? What do you need to try?”

“I'm trying to be what you want!”

“You fucking idiot. You were ugly crying and self-deprecating, slouched in a chair, challenging our friendship, and that was my breaking point. Don't you get it? I want the you who breaks down after practice because your knee is killing you and you pushed too hard, I want the you who pukes in the middle of the night because of that peach schnapps you stole from your sister, I want the you who comments on every fucking inconsistency in the Alien movies because you've watched them 34 times. I want the you who throws your disgusting socks at me after practice and screams like a girl when I chase you with a snake! All of those moments are the ones that mattered!” He was giving Hajime that stricken look again, but he was still grimacing.

“B-but, I wasn't trying in any of those moments! Those are all examples of the worst of me!” Hajime released the sweatshirt and his fingers moved up to cup Oikawa's face and his touch smoothed the lines from it as his eyelashes fluttered and he blushed at the soft touch.

“No. They were the truest you. They were the best you. I...I love those things about you, Tooru.” His words seemed to break over Oikawa and he flinched as his lip began to tremble. The bright pain in Hajime's chest found relief as he watched the mask crumble before his words. Oikawa grabbed his shirt and jerked him forward into a bruising kiss, graceless, with too much teeth, but much like the first time it stole every doubt from his mind that this was right.

As the initial emotional snap cooled, their kiss became languid and more coordinated. As their tongues danced in harmony, he felt Oikawa's legs wrap around him and his hands moved instinctively to his thighs. Stealthy fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt and grazed along his stomach and sides, followed the curve of his spine down to tease at the waistline of his jeans. Tooru bit lightly at his bottom lip and he groaned in response. Of course he was good at this. The guy had had enough practice. He was already fully hard again, nearly panting into Oikawa's mouth. He needed more than this.

He scooped him up off the desk, which crashed their hips together more, sending a buzz of pleasure through him. Oikawa let out a little 'hah' that had him nearly growling with want. He set him down on the bed, much more gently than he had honestly imagined, and tugged both of Oikawa's shirts over his head. He fell backward a bit, catching himself on his elbows. As his face tilted up and their eyes met again, there was an earnest expression there that Hajime didn't think he'd ever seen before. It was a look of caution, trepidation, a layer of him exposed like he'd probably never allowed before and it awoke things within Hajime, hungry things that roared with need.

He would make him forget that fear. He would soothe every raw and untouched nerve of vulnerability until Oikawa forgot about the mask of the great king. Until he knew nothing but the weight of Hajime's hands.

He nearly ripped his own shirt from him in his haste to bring his mouth back against Tooru's skin, his hands greedy to devour every inch of exposed flesh. As his teeth scraped along the pale throat of his oldest friend, Oikawa arched up into his touch, huffing out another breath. He was straining against those tight jeans and Hajime palmed him roughly, making him whimper as he gripped at Hajime's hair.

“F-fuck, Hajime, what are we doing here?” he whispered between panting breaths, and that shaky voice, so devoid of the false bravado he usually wore, made a wicked grin break out on Hajime's lips. He pulled back, but pressed their hips together, entirely too pleased by the way it made Tooru bite his lower lip, his cheeks red and hair already in disarray.

“What do you wanna do, Tooru?” he whispered back, low and teasing, rolling his hips just a bit and making Oikawa hiss as they ground together.

“God, anything. Everything. I don't fucking care as long as you're the one doing it to me.” Hajime lifted up just enough to get his hand between them to pop the button on Tooru's jeans, dragging his zipper down slow as he nibbled at his ear.

“That's the most honest thing you've said since we got back. But you're going to have to be quiet, or this little sleepover will grind to a horrifying halt. Got it?” Despite all his wildest fantasies unfolding before him, Hajime was still hyper aware of his mother downstairs, innocently calling Oikawa-sama to say that her son would be crashing here tonight. He'd be crashing a few times, if Hajime had his way about it.

Somehow all of the nervous overthinking that had happened in the kitchen was banished the second Tooru was laid out underneath him. Sure, he was still nervous, but Oikawa's hands were shaking more than his were. His mouth closed over one raised nipple, tongue circling it and pressing hard into the nub and he thrilled as Tooru's back arched again, teeth clamped on his lip to keep sounds from slipping out. A hand slipped down the back of his pants to grip his ass and Tooru gasped.

“Hajime! You're not wearing underwear! Did you plan this?” He looked completely flabbergasted, the question totally serious and Hajime couldn't help but laugh.

“Did I plan for you to surprise show up at my house so I could seduce you? I'm not a James Bond villain, for God's sake. I just didn't feel the need after I got out of the shower. They're just sweatpants.” Oikawa gave him that look he always made when he'd said something stupid and Hajime had called him out on it, a little pout with a hint of frown. He squeezed Hajime's ass hard in retaliation which was hardly a punishment, as it had the bonus effect of causing Hajime to grind hard against him, a small moan escaping both of them.

“Fuck, I always wanted to squeeze your ass like this,” Oikawa said breathlessly, nipping along Hajime's jawline as he tried to simultaneously remove Tooru's pants while also continuing to increase the friction between them. He needed him out of these jeans yesterday.

With a growl he moved back, yanking at them, but they were so tight and Oikawa actually giggled at his struggles, eventually giving in and shimmying them down to his knees. Hajime grabbed at them, and tugged them the rest of the way off, his eyes trained on the tent in those silky black boxers. As soon as Tooru's legs were free of them, Hajime was on him again, his hand diving past the waistband to grip Oikawa's length tightly. As he gave him one slow stroke, a moan started pouring from him and Hajime's free hand clamped over his mouth. They both froze, listening, but no sounds were notable over the music.

“As much as I want to hear you, I would much rather not get caught,” he warned, and Tooru nodded beneath his hand. He circled the slick head of his cock with his thumb, making him jerk, liking the view of him with his mouth clamped shut more than he'd like to admit. But he relented. There would be plenty of time for such explorations later, with more communication. He replaced the hand with his lips, drinking up Oikawa's little gasps as he worked him with agonizing slowness.

He felt like he had the upper hand for a whole moment before his friend's hands found his own straining erection, teasing at him with finger pads that were rough and calloused from all their days of volleyball practice. How many times had he imagined those hands on him just like this as he'd stroked himself to completion while alone? And fuck, the real thing was so much better than he'd ever imagined, the taste of him in his mouth and his warm body quivering beneath him. He still wanted more, it wasn't enough, not for all their waiting and pining.

His mouth began to trail down Tooru's body, tongue lapping at the sheen of sweat that had appeared on his skin. Oikawa watched him, hard breaths pushed out of his open mouth, the look of desperate anticipation sublime upon his handsome features. As his breath fell over Toour's navel, tongue darting at the line of his hip, his body thrust up with need. He pulled the boxers down slow, pulsing in Tooru's hands as his beautiful red cock fell against the pale skin of his thigh. He'd seen him naked before, in the locker rooms and a few other times that were cemented in his memory, but never hard and wanting, and it made him feel almost dizzy with how much he loved seeing him like this. Still, his stomach fluttered with nerves and he looked back up at those deep brown eyes.

“This is...okay right? You would stop me if...” One of Oikawa's eyebrows quirked up and a smile tugged briefly at his lips.

“You're kidding, right? I don't think I've ever been so turned on by anything in my whole life. If you stop now, I might literally combust.” Hajime stilled his friend's hand that had been steadily stroking him. He loved it, but he needed to concentrate, and Oikawa's ministrations were the epitome of distracting. He grabbed one of his legs and yanked it to him, thigh to shoulder, taking his cock in hand and licking along the underside from base to tip. “Oh my, fuck you, how dare you be so good at this...”

Funny, considering Hajime had never done this before, but he'd imagined it plenty of times. He'd even practiced on his own fingers, learning what different tongue movements and pressures felt like. As he circled the head of Tooru's dick with his tongue, flicking it hard after the lighter, slower laps, he watched the product of his embarrassing practice with relish. Tongue-play was one thing, but he was nervous about taking him fully, unsure how problematic his gag reflex would be. As he stroked him at an easy pace, he began to sink down, taking more of him each time his head bobbed with his hand motion.

Oikawa's fists were tight in the bed sheets, his mouth open and head lolled back, but he stayed quiet. He looked so good, splayed out at Hajime's mercy, and he couldn't keep his other hand from petting along his thigh and hip. He took him deep, pulling back when he felt like he might choke, but the more he did it the more used to it he became. He took breaks, where he would bite and suck at Tooru's inner thigh, bringing out that keening whimper that he knew would never again be as innocently obnoxious as it always had been.

Just as his jaw was beginning to ache uncomfortably, Oikawa whispered his name, tentative and questioning and he pulled back to look at him.

“Hajime, will you...” he chewed at his bottom lip, his already flushed face burning even brighter. “Will you, uh, use your fingers?” Hajime cocked his head in confusion, looking down at the fist wrapped firmly around his base. Oikawa huffed with embarrassment. “No, like, inside.”

Oh. He'd really never done that before, even to himself. Sure, he'd seen porn of it plenty of times, but that was an unreliable learning tool. Fortunately for him, Oikawa picked up on his apprehension and gave him a lopsided grin.

“You don't have to, really. If it grosses you out-”

“No!” he said a little too loud and Tooru glanced toward the door, but still gave him a seductive look. In all honesty, he'd been completely obsessed with a number of ideas pertaining specifically to that. “I've just never...I might need some direction.”

“Lucky for you, as team captain and setter, I'm great at directions. Give me your hand.” So Hajime extended his free hand and Tooru sat up, grabbing it and sucking his first two fingers into his mouth. And fuck if that didn't have Hajime's cock twitching as he leaked all over the bed, but whatever, he didn't give a damn. Oikawa's tongue slid between his fingers, teasing at the pads and all he could think about was what it would feel like anywhere else. As his friend slid his lips off of them, he winked at Hajime and he realized his mouth had been hanging open.

“Start with one, the middle one. Might be all you need.” His voice was breathy, pupils blown so wide his eyes almost looked black, and Hajime held them as he shifted and brushed against Oikawa's entrance. As he began pressing in, Tooru fell back against the bed and his legs splayed wider. Shit, he was so tight and hot, the velvet feel of him making Hajime bring his cock back to his mouth, just to distract himself. He worked his way in slowly, until he reached the base of his knuckle, Oikawa's whole body writhing even more than before. He sunk in the second finger, working slowly past the resistance and he started to moan even as his cock grew in Hajime's mouth, swelling as he built up.

“Hah, hah, Hajime, yes, so close, right there...” He pressed against the place Tooru's moans seem to indicate and without much warning the body beneath him convulsed, filling his mouth with bitter, salty liquid and he savored it, swallowing greedily around Oikawa's cock. He'd clenched so tight around Hajime's fingers, he felt like he might cum himself, just from the mere friction of the bed sheet, but he managed to hold off.

As he disconnected from Tooru, his eyes drank in the sight of the great king, wrecked and panting before him, his face, neck, and chest blotchy red. His arm was thrown over his eyes and he looked so perfect, so completely ravaged, that Hajime just mouthed and nibbled at the inside of his knee as he waited for him to recover. He ran his hands along his legs and abdomen, trying like hell to ignore his own throbbing erection. This was his Tooru, something no one else would have, the man entirely stripped of confidence and composure. As his fingers trailed over Oikawa's ribs, he jolted and grinned, giggling as he swatted at Hajime's hand.

“Stop! Stop, that tickles!” A true smile overtook Hajime, devoid of any intent as soft emotions bloomed behind his ribs. He'd known for a long time that he was in love with Tooru, but it wasn't until this moment it had felt so...golden. No longer the sharp sword embedded in his heart that cut with every beat, but something beautiful and powerful that lit up every dark corner of his soul. “All right, you've graciously let me rest long enough.”

He sat up lazily and caught Hajime's lips once again. His hands trailed over his chest, abs, and thighs. He nibbled along Hajime's chin before pulling back with a devilish grin.

“So, your earlier concern leads me to the conclusion that you've never done that even to yourself, is that true?” He really knew how to be direct and if Hajime hadn't been on the verge of bursting, he likely would have punched him. That haughty smirk was on his face, the same one he got any time he was able to one up Hajime. How could he be so astute while they were doing this? He huffed out a sigh.

“No, it never really appealed.”

“Iwa-chan. You're eighteen. You had to have known that a) you're gay and b) great things happen up there. How have you not-”

“All of this is new to me, Oikawa! You're the only person I've ever liked, I've only kissed one other person, so give me a break about this stuff okay!” Under the crushing weight of humiliation, Hajime was crumbling. He knew it would be like this with Tooru, all his surety and experience cowing him like the fumbling school boy that he was. Like flicking a switch the situation had gone from burning intensity to awkward insecurity and he hated it. He sat back against the wall and covered his face, unable to face anymore teasing from the boy he was so completely mad for.

There was a soft touch at his shoulder and then another at his wrist as his hands were pulled away. Oikawa's lips brushed across his skin, his hands so big and powerful were gentle, as if Hajime were something precious. He didn't know that he would like this, had never thought of Tooru being this kind of soft as he nuzzled against Hajime's neck, but it was warm and sweet and he felt himself falling into it. His eyes lidded and his limbs relaxed and Tooru's hands danced across his skin, up his thighs, even feathering over his cock, still half hard and regaining arousal with each passing moment. He tilted Hajime's face toward him and kissed him, a slow and sweet fire, like honey laced with cayenne. His lips moved back to Hajime's ear, his soft breath loud so close to the source.

“Can I show you?” His voice was so low and husky, relaxed, the way Hajime liked it the most, and he wasn't sure he had the will to deny him anything while speaking like that and touching him so teasingly. He pushed Hajime down, mouthed along his collarbone as his thumb rolled over one nipple.

“Ah, what if, what if I don't like it?” He mumbled into Tooru's soft hair, enthralled by the skin to skin contact and the freedom his hands finally had to roam the lines and curves of his friend's body.

“Then you just say 'stop' and we stop.” Tooru met him with a serious expression, holding his gaze to make sure he understood, that he knew that Oikawa was serious when he said that. Once he nodded, a leering grin overtook Tooru's face and Hajime realized that the dynamic had shifted. He drew in a shuddering breath as rough fingers gripped his leg tightly. “Though I very much doubt you'll be stopping me.”

Hajime's brow knit together at his confidence and he grunted a bit, but was thrown off his retort when strong arms flipped him onto his stomach. His knees were locked apart as Tooru maneuvered between them and when he tried to raise up, he was pushed down into the bed. Harsh fingers dragged down Hajime's back, feeling so good as they pressed against muscle, and a hot breath between his shoulder blades made him shiver. He'd always imagined himself as the dominant one, but he was finding this to be almost as thrilling as having Tooru at his mercy. Tooru's tongue moved up his spine, completely sinful with the way he had Hajime pinned down, and he almost purred against his ear when he reached it.

“I intend to make you cum so hard you'll be feeling my fingers in that music for the rest of your life.”

The power those simple words had over him was shattering and he couldn't stop his hips from humping into the mattress, a shudder of pleasure rippling through him from the friction. Oikawa leaned back, but planted a hand between his shoulder blades as his other trailed lightly over the cleft of Hajime's ass. He was nervous, but fuck, he was so turned on he was pretty sure he could cum just from rutting into the sheets. Oikawa's hand drifted slowly down his back and he could almost feel his gaze, hungry and possessive. Open mouthed kisses landed around his hips and lower spine, buzzing through him, and let out a little cry when he felt teeth sink into one cheek.

Hajime bit his own lip hard when he felt Oikawa spread him open. Nothing had ever left him feeling more vulnerable. The first wet pressure from Tooru's tongue made him gasp and jerk, but he wasn't released. Soon the sensation was everything he knew and his breaths were coming hard and fast as that clever tongue teased and pressed at his entrance. A hand snuck between him and the mattress to grasp him, moving just enough to have him biting back moans as best as he could manage. He felt it, the moment Oikawa pushed into him, and he was almost ashamed to admit that he wanted more, deeper. He couldn't stop from rolling his hips against his mouth, the hand around him so firm. The pressure was building, coiling tightly in his balls, and he felt himself tense as he reached toward the precipice.

The hand at the base of his cock tightened almost painfully, and he choked a bit, struggling against Tooru's tight grip. Somehow, it had stopped his orgasm right at the finish line. He had no idea such a thing was even possible, and a shameful whine escaped his throat unbidden.

“Mmmm, sorry tiger, not yet.”

“Fucking goddamnit, Tooru-” he swallowed his words as he glanced back and saw Oikawa wrap his lips around his middle finger, the hand around his cock loosening to stroke him again. He turned his face back against the pillow as that warm, wet tongue slipped against him again. The firmer press of Oikawa's finger was like heaven at this point, and he slid in with minimal resistance. The feeling of him inside was a wholly new experience, a different and delicious kind of friction all its own, and he moved against it.

“Ah, Hajime, you're so tight. God, I've never gotten hard again so fast. Wish I could...” He trailed off, flicking his tongue against Hajime's rim again, but he didn't need to finish that sentence. Hajime could clearly imagine it, Tooru sinking that beautiful cock into him, head falling back in pleasure...he couldn't contain the moan that crashed out of him, with so much sensation and so many mental images sparking through him.

Then something jolted through him, snapping like a coiled viper with bliss for venom from somewhere deep inside of him. His back arched as his body reacted, eyes going wide as he nearly choked on his own breath. Oikawa growled in triumph behind him, pushing into him again hard as he worked his cock with the other hand. He bit down on his pillow to stifle his voice as the pleasure peaked brutally once again. It felt like Oikawa was stroking his very soul and one more push sent him tumbling, climax hitting so hard that his vision went white. The sound that tore out of him was animal, guttural and wild as he soaked the sheets beneath him with his release.

He didn't even feel it when Tooru pulled away from him, barely registered being turned over. His hands and feet were tingling and his body felt light but immovable. All he could do was breathe and try to regain some of the sanity that had fled him in that moment of savage ecstasy. Tooru draped over top of him, kissing lightly along his throat.

“You okay, Hajime?”

“Ya.”

“For the record, I think you're right. I've never had so much fun with one of those girls.”

“Fuck, don't talk about them right now.” His face twitched like it was trying to frown, but he couldn't summon the energy. Oikawa raised up, looking down into his face, fingers trailing softly down his chest.

“I'm telling you I'm done with them. No more of that. I've only got a taste for one thing now.” He meant it to be sexy, romantic, but Hajime smirked at him.

“Who knew my ass was so addictive.” A slap to the stomach brought him the rest of the way back as Tooru scoffed at him and he laughed, free and easy, wrapping his arms around his friend, no, his lover, despite his insincere attempt to push him away. Resting his head against Oikawa's chest like this, the glow from his climax still heavy in his limbs, nothing in the world could feel so right.

“Who was it that you kissed before? You never told me about that,” Oikawa asked sleepily, playing at disinterest, but Hajime knew better.

“Back in the fall, I was trying like hell to get over you, and I knew someone liked me, so I let him kiss me. It wasn't a big deal. I felt bad because I didn't feel anything and it never happened again.”

“Who?” He considered not telling him, letting it eat at him a bit more, but he was feeling too warm and happy to be his usual gruff self.

“Kyoutani.”

“Kyoutani! You kissed Mad Dog! Tch, no wonder he only ever listened to you...” Hajime chuckled in response, enjoying far too much how Tooru constricted around him like he was a treasure to be guarded.

“I only ever wanted to kiss you.”

“I guess he can live then.”

“As if you could take him.”

“Don't be a bitch, Iwa-chan. Now, help me with this useless futon.”


End file.
